The Mockingjay Games
by TalesFromAnAngel
Summary: After the Mockingjay Revolution has subsided, and with President Snow dead at the hands of the Katniss Everdeen herself, order has finally come to the people of Panem. Now there are new games for the children of the old Capitol to partake in. 24 will enter the arena, but only one will be victorious. Let the 4th Annual Mockingjay Games begin, And may the odds be ever in your favor!
1. Prologue

Reaping Day is tomorrow. The 4th Annual Mockingjay Games is imminent.

The adolescents of Panem are all in a paranoid frenzy. Me probably being the worst of them all. Just turning 12 this year, my name was now entered into the poll of contestants that will take place in the "new" games. Somewhere, within the hundreds of entries, laid a slip of paper with my name, Schenios Paltan, upon it.

However, a lot has changed since the Mockingjay Revolution (that's what it was called throughout Panem). After Snow's death at the hands of the infamous Katniss Everdeen, there was a time of great turmoil. The Capitol crumbled and many, including Miss Everdeen herself, were unsure of the future of Panem. After a few months of uneasiness, a somewhat democratic government was set up, following in the footsteps of our ancestors. Through a unanimous decision throughout the new governing body, it was decided that Plutarch Heavensbee would be appointed President and come up with a new games, which he so arrogantly titled the "Mockingjay Games". The children of the old districts were safe; however those survivors from the Capitol would now be reaped and set out to fight and day for the amusement of thousands.

If only his fat ass was left to die instead of our great leader, Coriolanus Snow.

It has been 5 years since the revolution, and I have seen many of my neighbors picked for the games, never to return to their families or homes again. This year would be the first that there would be a chance for me to be picked as well. But would the odds be in my favor?

That was a stupid question though, because the odds are never in anyone's favor.

The night before reaping was a restless one for me. Tossing and turning in my bed, sweat soaking in my pillow. And it was freezing within my cabin. After about an hour I gave in and made my way to the kitchen, avoiding the squeaky floorboards like a game of hopscotch in order to avoid the wrath of my parents. They were a nervous wreck today as well and it could be seen easily throughout the day. The shaking of my mother's hand when she was pouring her coffee, or the extra time that my dad spent hugging me before he went off to work were clear symbols of how frightened they really were.

Reaching the kitchen, I propped open the fridge and reached out for the milk. Maybe a glass of warm milk will set my nerves straight, or at least tire me out a bit. Taking the mug of warm milk out of the microwave, I pull my head back and let the warm liquid slide down my throat. Closing my eyes, it seemed to lace my esophagus with a warm tingly sensation.

"Can't sleep either?"

A voice from behind startled me and I nearly choke up my milk. I glance behind and there stands my mother. A robe full of holes draped down to her ankles while a pair of dusty slippers keep her feet warm from the bitter cold of Winter herself.

"No," I say as I finish the remaining milk. "I can't stop thinking about tomorrow. Like, what happens if I get picked?"

"Well you best not worry about that," my mother says, coming to my side and placing a hand on my shoulder. "And the odds are the slimmest."

I look into my mother's sky-blue eyes. I can tell that before the revolution, she was a young, eager woman who loved life and all aspects of it. Now that stress and turmoil has surrounded her life, dark bags began developing under her eyes and wrinkles took control of her face.

She smiles at the corner of her mouth, bends to my height and throws her arms around my shoulders.

"I love you and no matter what happens, I always will."

I can't help but choke up a bit but force myself to keep composure. I can't let my mother hear me cry, I must be strong for her and for my family.

She releases me and I can see from the twinkle in her eyes that she's trying to do the same, but failing.

"I love you too ma," I manage to croak out, holding back sobs between words.

"Now off to bed you go," she says, shoving me towards my room. "And try and get a good night's rest."

I walk away, head drooped towards the floor. Tonight, there is no such thing as a good night's rest. Reaping is tomorrow and 24 of us will be called upon to fight, and only 1 will come out alive.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Odds are Never in your Favor**

I wake up with a stiff back pain and the pounding of a drum in my head. Sweat coats my pillow and sticks to my face as I try and raise myself up slowly out of my bed. I wander sleeplessly off my bed and gaze out my window, which is no more than a hole in the wall, and see that the area outside is abuzz with noise. I look as mothers and fathers push and shove their children to the Center Hall, where the reaping will take place. Each of them has a death look on their face.

The fearful look of a parent who might lose their child forever.

The Center Hall, or Center for short, is where all the reapings of the Mockingjay Games take place. It is also one of the biggest areas left behind after the revolution. Most areas were destroyed or ransacked by looters, but Miss Everdeen made sure that what is now the Center Hall stayed untouched. The ceiling stands way above the likes of any man, but is bare white and rusted with age, like the souls of the former Capitol members. Pillars hold the weight of the ancient building in sets of two with enough space between them all for large crowds to form. No seats, no comfortable spots to stand, and no hope for coming out of the Games alive.

My mother bolts out of her room with a button down shirt that has browned with age, a pair of slacks that look much too small for me, and an ugly pair of shoes with a tassel in the front.

"Please don't tell me I have to wear that," I say in disbelief.

She scowls at me and nods her head. "You will look great."

By the way she looks away after she says this; I know that she is lying. She always had a habit of looking away when she was lying, so it was easy to decipher now. Biting her bottom lip was also another clear indication that she was stretching the truth.

"Now hurry up and put this on, we don't have all day," she says as she shoves me back into my room to change. "You know that we mustn't be late, or else the Birds may flock."

She didn't mean real birds. Birds are what we, the former Capitol members, called the security guards that spread fear upon us. Mockingjays were there actual names, but Birds sounded better. They hated it when they were called that. Hated it so much that one day someone who used it was whipped right there in the Center, nearly to the brink of death. After that, many were frightened to use it except when in the security of one's own household.

"Ok, ok, give me 5 minutes," I say as she slams my door behind me. I slowly put on the clothes and realize that I was right. The pants are horribly small for me. The pant legs float far above my ankle and the belt hovered over the front, too loose to even buckle properly. I'm fumbling with the shoes when my bedroom door swings open and my mother stands there, the look of dread plastered on her face.

"You still aren't ready?"

I throw the shoe down on the ground in frustration and it bounces under my bed.

"These shoes are way too big for me! It's like I'm floating in them."

"I'm sorry honey," she says as she strokes the hair out of my face. "But it's all we have at this moment. Please just wear it before-"

There's a loud banging on the door and it flies open, startling me and my mother both. Outside stand two Mockingjay soldiers. There suits are black, the same color as the one that Miss Everdeen wore herself after killing our beloved Snow. They hold guns in the hands that look just as heavy as the suits, and their helmets seem to gleam off the morning sun, with a clear visor that only shows their eyes.

The eyes of the power hungry slaves of the Mockingjay and false President themselves.

"Why are you not at the Center yet," said one of the guards, stepping through the door. "You should've been there about 10 minutes ago."

"I'm very sorry," my mother exclaims, her voice cracking in fear. "My son is just having some problems with his clothes. We will be out in about five-"

THWAK!

She lets out a loud yell as she collapses to the floor, clutching her right rib cage. The guard that stepped in the house hit her with the butt of the gun and was reeling back for another hit when I stepped out in front of her, arms raised to my side.

The guard that struck my mother let out a thunderous laugh that seemed to shake the very integrity of the house. The main guard then lowered himself, his face merely inches from mine. His hot breath seemed to seep my nostrils, clouding my mind my thoughts. Very bad thoughts.

"Step aside young man," his voice deeper and harsher than before. "Or you can end up like your bastard mother." His eyes shift behind me towards my mother, as she struggles to catch her breath and regain her composure.

Still I stood frozen there, arms astray, frozen not by courage, but by fear. He raised the butt of his gun once again and set up for another attack and I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the feel of cold steel against my skin.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I open my eyes slowly to see the guard being restrained by the other.

"We're here to protect these people," the guard with the familiar voice exclaims. "Not to inflict pain on them."

"You get your hands off me soldier," the restrained guard says, his voice breaking through tension. "Or you'll meet the same fate."

"I wish you'd try." And he removes his helmet. Now I know why his voice is so familiar.

It's none other than Gale Hawthorne.

My mind starts to race with questions: _What is he doing as a Bird? Why didn't he help my mother before his friend stroked her? Isn't he supposed to be at District 2?_

The guard refuses to move and Gale answered that with a swift punch to the face. The guard, although awe-struck stands in his place. Gale pushes the guard out of the way and holds out a hand to help my mother up. She takes it and in one quick motion she's back on her feet but obviously still shaken up from the blow, as she holds her afflicted side.

"The Jay will hear about this treachery," the guard says angrily, his face red on the side of the punch.

The Jay he was referring too was none other than Miss Everdeen. The Girl on Fire.

"Good," Gale says, a smirk on his face. He turns to me, my arms still out to the side, stupidly frozen. "Now you and your mother should get out of here and head to the Center now."

I nod slowly and place an arm around my mother's waist, putting some of her weight on me so she can walk.

The Birds leave and Gale looks back before he closes the door, a look of sorrow on his face as his eyes shift from me to my battered mother.

"Im sorry," he mouths, but I look away as the door creaks to a close.

"Let's g-go h-honey," my mother wheezing through broken breaths.

"Take it easy ma, I exclaim and we make our way in the winter cold to the Center.

By the curious glances of the others, I can tell that we are extremely late. Walking slowly to allow my mother the time to recover, I squeeze between the crowds and take a position aside my mother in the middle, that way the bitter winter wind would not affect us so much.

Upon the stage sits the multiple enemies of us all.

President Plutarch Heavensbee sits at the farthest end of the stage. He looks like the job it starting to get the best of him; His double chin seeming to plop out over his button down shirt. His hair is obviously starting to thin out, as he looks to be struggling to keep the last few strands on the top of his head from departing, instead combining them over his bald spot, merely making it look worse. His pants seem way to tight, as his legs seem to be separated into sections.

Disgusting pig.

Next to him sits the brutish drunk that is Haymitch Abernathy. Having changed the least, he sits at the end of his seat, elbows on his knees and hands on his chin, as if in massive thought. His hair has started to thin as well, but not to the measures President Heavensbee. On his lap lies a silver flask, which from the looks it, he's trying to hide from the crowd, but doing a very sad job of it. His concentrated gaze is stuck on the pillar in front of him, where the glass bowl full of names is perched, waiting to separate and destroy the families of the chosen.

Beside him is Miss Mockingjay. Her seat is the largest amongst them and also the only one with color. Like a throne, the back piece towers over her fellow men. Her hair lies in a braid, thrown over her right shoulder, almost symbolically of her fame. Her lips stay pursed together, slowly scanning the crowd of scared faces.

Of course you couldn't have Miss Mockingjay without Mr. Mockingjay.

Peeta Mallark sat beside his "wife", his tie barely visible under his thick winter coat. His face wore a stern look of dismay, as if not wanting to be there, but being dragged along. His seat, although not as grand as his lovers, still surpasses those of Haymitch and even the President. His stern face seems to have aged quite a bit from the last reaping, as wrinkles and frown-lines appear throughout his face.

There is a loud screeching of a microphone and an all too familiar voice rings within the speakers.

"Happy Mockingjay Games-!"

Before she finished, I hang my head low, eyes to the floor and begin to bite my tongue in anger at the irony of the situation. It was once _us_ that watched _them_ be reaped and hear that, every year, like clockwork. How irony comes to bite you back is phenomenal.

"-And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Damn you Effie.

"Welcome, welcome to the reaping of the 4th annual Mockingjay Games!"

I glance up and my eyes seem to nearly go blind.

Effie's dress sparkles with the intensity of the sun. It's covered in what looks like gold metallic scales down to her shoes, which are also covered in the scaly pattern. She looks like a walking, talking, golden magnifying glass.

"Jeez woman," I say under my breath. "Don't blind me."

My mother, without having to look, flicks me on the side of my forehead; her long fingernail seeming to ricochets off my temple. Wincing in pain, I can do nothing but smirk and curse under my breath as she sternly tells me to pay attention.

"As you may all know, today marks the 4th anniversary of when Miss Everdeen herself led the 2nd revolution to victory over the Capitol and finally brought peace to Panem. Let us have a round of applause for our leader herself, the Girl on Fire, the Lovers' Quarrel star, the-"

" _Get on with it already lady,"I scream in my head. "She isn't_ all _that great to be begin with!"_

"-Miss Katniss Everdeen!"

The crowd seems to moan in unison in disbelief and few claps are heard scarcely throughout the large mob of freezing people.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to Reaping Day for the 4th Mockingjay Games. It was today that I stepped into Snow's mansion and, together, we became victorious. However with great victory comes great remorse. Prim, my young sister lost her life due to the war, as did many soldiers, both rebel and non-rebel, as the revolution concluded. I hold these games as a remembrance of those soldiers, both friend and foe. For the friends I've seen die in my arms and in front of my eyes. For my dear sister Prim."

She stops and the crowd, if not already looking in her direction, seem to freeze on Miss Everdeen's face. She glances up for a second and back down, blinking away the tears of the memory that haunted her for years. Maybe one that still haunts her now even as she speaks. The light from the rising sun seems to sparkle in her eye and a tear falls from her right eye. She wipes it away with the back of her hand and continues on.

"And for the countless lives lost from previous Hunger and Mockingjay games."

She freezes, and stares outward into the nothing of the winter fog that has crept upon us. Another tear escapes her right eye and this time, she lets it slide down her cheek. Peeta stands, walks over to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder. She burrows her face into his chest and begins to weep uncontrollably.

"Effie please call the names of the tributes for this year games," Peeta demands as he tugs Miss Everdeen away behind the stage. Effie obeys, jumping out her seat and taking center stage. Gale takes the stage as well dragging along a tall wooden stool, accompanied by three other Birds that are struggling to carry a large glass sphere. Within the sphere, lie the hundreds of names of those children, ages 12-18, those of who may or may not partake in this year's games.

" _Please let the odds be in my favor,"_ I think to myself.

"Let us begin," Effie exclaims, clearing her throat.

My mother takes my hand, squeezing my fingers firmly. My heart is beating so fast I fear I may pass out. But my focus is on Effie's mouth, and everything else goes quiet. She picks up the first slip of paper out of the bowl and begins.

23 names pass by, but my mother's grip hasn't subsided, and neither has my heartbeat. My breaths are short and shallow, and the world starts to spin around me.

 _23 names have passed already. What are the odds of me being called?_

The 23 who are doomed to play all stand in a line in front of the stage, the look of pure fear obvious on their face.

 _I won't be called. I won't be standing up there with them. After this is done, I'm going to go home and give my mother a great big hug and she's going to cook and we're going to live happily once again._

"Last but certainly not least," Effie says as she lowers her hand into the bowl. She swirls her fingers around before catching a slip of paper between her fingers.

"Here we go. The last and final tribute to partake in the 4th annual Mockingjay Games is…"

My heart is beating so loudly it's the only thing I can hear. My mind goes into a frenzy of contrasting thoughts.

 _Has she called the name yet? Was it me? Was it someone I know?_

My mouth begins to dry up and I start to find it hard to breath.

 _No way will I be called._

Effie untangles the paper and squints at the name.

 _It's a short name that why she can't see it. I am safe._

She clears her throat and my mother's grip tightens around my fingers.

 _Don't worry ma. Not this year._

"Schenios Paltan!"

 _ ***Look forward to Chapter 2! Coming out Friday, Novemeber 27th, the day after Thanksgiving Day. And thank you for the views and keep them coming. Feel free to leave reviews, both positive and what I could potentially improve on, and make sure to keep up with The Mockingjay Games by favoring the story and the author, me!***_


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: All Fall's Down**

 _Who has Effie called?_

Everyone's eyes are shifting around.

 _Who has Effie called?!_

My mother's grip on my fingers loosens and they begin to circulate blood through them once again. I look up and her eyes are fixed up the slip of paper in Effie's hand.

I shake her arm, but her death stare stays.

"Mom?"

Her head slowly shifts down and her eyes meet mine, filled with fear and awe. The look of terror on her face is almost terrifying as tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

 _Why is everyone looking at me?_

"Schenios Paltan!" Effies voice rings throughout the speakers once again.

Everyone has shifted their gaze from the stage… to me. The crowd begins to back up, forming a small circle around me and my mother. My mother drops to her knees, her shoulders bobbing up and down and she proceeds to cry.

 _Me She called me._

Birds begin to push through the crowd, towards me, but I can't move. Or even think. I'm frozen. Three guards reach us and one of them begin to separate me and my mother, but my she grips my arm so hard I feel the nails dig deep within the underside of my forearm. I grimace in pain and look down. A face filled with running mascara and a fearful look stares back at me. The other two step in and wretch her grip from my arm and she collapses on the ground, eyes fixated upon the sky. Tears still flowing down her cheeks and lets out a piercing yell that startles the entire crowd.

"I beg you, please don't take him!"

I begin to thrash and kick against the will of the guards and free myself after kicking the shin of one of the guards. He proceeds to hop in place, his hands around the afflicted shin. I run to my mother's side and place my arm under her head, her eyes finally shifting to mine.

 _What can I say in a time like this?"Think. Think. Think!_

The guards begin to assemble again and jog my way.

"I'll win mom," I say between sobs. "For us. I swear I-"

Before I can finish, hands hoist me up, and I respond with an elbow to the face of the nearest Bird. My elbow makes contact with his nose and a sickening cracking sound fills the silent air. Red glop begins to flow out of his nose and I know that it's broken from the way he recoils back in agony. I turn to try and run away, but am instantly met with a fist to my jaw. The world begins to spin and stars cloud my vision. I'm battling to stay conscious as I'm carried to the front where I'm thrown to the ground in front of the rest of the tributes. I look up from the ground in a hazy daze and 24 pairs of eyes look back at me. I see that some look in sorrow, while others in anger. However I know that all of them are looking at me like a fresh, prime piece of new meat, ripe for the killing.

And then everything goes black.

I wake up and I'm lying in an unfamiliar bed, surrounded by an unfamiliar room. Beside a gray, weary door, there are no other exits or entrances from the room. My bed lies in the middle of the small enclosure, with a small, gray bureau to my right and a white, rusty sink to my left. Atop the bureau lie a large, oval shaped mirror and a black digital clock. I sit up and walk in front of the mirror. The left side of my jaw is a sickly purple color where the Birds fist met my face. It aches in pain as I begin to poke and prod at it. I look down to the clock and it flashes 7:35 A.M at my eyes.

 _How long have I been out?_

In the middle of this thought, a loud knocking erupts from my door. Before I can even think to open it, a woman proceeds to walk in, accompanied by a Bird with a gray outfit.

The woman is a sight to behold. And not in a good way. She stands about 5'5", with legs and arms that seem to bulge out from underneath her tank-top and shorts, muscle upon muscle overlapping each other. Her shoulders seem to swallow her neck whole and I can't tell if its breast or pecks under her top. I'm way too fearful to ask anyway. Her face is in a scowl and across her left eye, going from her the middle of her forehead to the middle of her cheek, lays the scar of what looks like a deep cut from the not too distant past. She motions for the guard to stay at the door while she eyes me up and down, a hawk gawking at its next meal.

"Hurry up and get dressed, your late for your first training day."

Before she turns to leave I blurt out, "What happened to my mother?"

"You have 5 minutes."

Before I can say anything else, she's out the door.

 _What happened to my mother?!_

I have no choice but to relax, change and ask questions later.

Once I'm dressed, I sulk out the door. My door is one of many in a hallway of rooms, bland grey as the walls and ceilings. As I walk through what seems like a maze of doors and walls, I can't help but notice that everything else in this place is the same depressing shade of gray. The gray that you wouldn't find in someone's eyes. Instead, it's that gray that is just dark enough to drive you into insanity if looked at for too long. Troublesome thoughts begin to darken my mind again.

 _Is my mother ok?_

 _Did they hurt her because of me?_

 _How is she doing now that I'm here?_

And most importantly: _How am I going to get out of this alive so I can return to her?_

Before I realize, I'm in a huge arena-like chamber. To my left lies a shooting range for bow and arrow practice. To my right multiple gyms, filled with an assortment of treadmills, bench-press machines, squat- racks, and some machines I've never seen before. Straight ahead of me stand the other 23 tributes. Their hands are at their sides and their feet are planted solidly together. There facing away from me and the room is dead silent enough for someone to hear their own thoughts aloud. I notice that everyone is in the same attire as I am: gray short sleeve shirts that are tucked in at the waist, matching grey pants and jet black shoes. Mine, which fit me small, give me a sharp pain in the ankle every time I step. But, right now, I can tell that that's the least of my worries.

Everyone is lined up in a square that goes 6 by 4. I notice a hole at the back end of the formation and hastily try and fit into the line. Before I can accomplish it, a loud voice rips through the peace.

"Schenios!"

Everyone turn and begins to stare at me.

"Get to the front, NOW!"

I drop my head, and stare at the floor as I obey. As I pass by the lines, snickers and whispers begin to spread through it like wildfire.

"He won't a few hours," says one voice.

"He's the youngest one here, there's no way in hell he'll last."

 _I have to._

In front of the line stands the masculine woman from the room encounter and another man, hands folded behind his back. The other man is tall, taller than the woman by a good foot. His dark skin seems to shine under the cheap florescent lighting of the room. He has a thin mustache and deep, sunken eyes that pull me into it like a tsunami wave. He puts his arms to his side and his muscles are twice the size of that of the female.

"Good morning tributes," he says, a commanding boom behind his voice.

Disgruntled moans and groans reply back to him.

"I'm sorry, I thought I asked you a god damn question. I _thought_ I said good morning tributes!"

This time everyone is at attention and, like soldiers, reply back in unison with a good morning of our own.

"That's what I thought. Now! Today is day one of training. You have a week to master all the skills necessary to survive out there on the Field!"

The Field is what the arena was called once it was rebuilt after Miss Everdeen's incident with the force field. With the help of District 13, it was finished in record time and even better than its predecessor. The force field aspect was removed and after all the work on it was complete, it was said to be worse than the old arena.

"Now, for the next 7 days, every day, you will be trained in basic hand to hand combat and survival techniques. You will also get time to master anything that you deem necessary as well! And, until the day you are thrown out there to either die and bring misery to your family or win to live another day, I will need your undivided attention!"

The man begins to pace, placing his hands back behind his back.

"Now, my name is Hevius and I am the main trainer of the Mockingjay Games. My last name is not important so don't worry about it right now. Only one of you will find it out, and that will the winner of this year's Games."

He points to the woman beside him and continues. "This is my assistant, Agnus and she does not mess around. If you bug her, she will make your 7 days in here a living hell like she did when I was here, standing exactly where you are now!"

 _Wait. He was in the games?_

I've seen many a people come into the training facility and slack off. If you want to do so, then that will be on you. But remember that when you're out there on the Field, and it comes down to it all, no one will pick your life over their own."

His words couldn't dig deeper in my heart even if I tried. And his participation in the previous games struck my curiosity.

 _Maybe I can get some information out of him on how to survive this thing._

"Now with all that out of the way, let's get started!"

 _ ***Made a few errors so had to re-upload this chapter! Sorry about that guys. Stupid ol' me forgot to check chapter before I uploaded. LOL! Look forward to the next chapter coming sometime next week. Keep those views coming and feel free to favorite and leave reviews for any and all chapters! Creative criticism is gladly appreciated!***_


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Underdog

 _I need to know how Hevius won the Games!_

That was the only thing that I could think about the first day of training. At the start we all split up and most of the group went to train in hand-to-hand combat. Looking around, I decided to work on trap making whose teacher was an old, slender woman. Upon approaching the table she rose up in excitement, greeted me with a nod and motioned me towards a table where various string and other gadgets were set out. I guess she was thrilled to have someone to teach.

Her hands begun to work like magic and before I knew it, she had a trap set up before I could even think about asking any questions. She looked at the dumbfounded look on my face and gave out a shrill little laugh. She began pointing at different materials and motioning me to do this or put it there.

"You don't speak much, do you ma'am?" I was curious to know why she was so quiet.

She responded by pointing at her throat and then sliding her finger down her esophagus vertically. She then slid her thumb over her neck horizontally and I got the picture.

"It's not that you won't talk, it's that you can't talk, can you?"

She gave me a toothless grin and we proceeded with the lesson. By the end of a few hours, I was able to set up a very basic trap to capture small critters. I sigh in relief as the woman, whose name I found out was Katia from when she wrote it on a paper, examines the trap, and gives me a toothy grin and a thumb up.

"Finally!"

I can't help but belt out in joy after spending nearly half the day on one of the most basic traps. Katia gives another wheezy laugh and I grab her hands and begin to spin her around in circles. I failed to realize that we we're now the center of attention and everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at the odd couple dancing merely together. I stopped just in time to hear Hevius' roar.

"Schenious!"

 _Crap._

"What in god's name are you doing?"

He begins his trek towards the trap station, pure anger resonating from his face, and I can't help but look around as people begin to point and laugh. My face reddens in embarrassment and I look down to ground. Hevius steps in front of me and his towering figure cast a shadow over me. He squats down next to my ear and I could feel his hot breath going down to my ear drum.

"Everyone is watching you Schenious," he whispers. "And hate to break it to you, but no one see's you as any type of competition. Save your victory dance for when and if you win."

A tear begins forming in my eye but I bite the inner part of my cheek and compile myself.

 _They cannot see me cry._

"You may not know or think about it, but I was not too far from your age when I won my first games."

I look up in amazement.

 _That means he's still very young._

"So how-" I start but he covers my mouth with his one of his bear paws.

"If you really want to know how to get out of this alive, meet me here at lights-out and all your questions will be answered."

His eyes seem to lighten a bit. Continuing, he adds, "I was the underdog in my games and I won. You're clearly that here. So I'm rooting for you, kid. Don't let me down."

He rises and I it feels like a giant weight have been lifted off my shoulders. Now to find out how to get out my room after lights-out.

 _ ***This was a shorter chapter but not to worry, the next chapter will be longer. Also, sorry about the late chapter, work and life has been kind of wacky these last few days but regularly updated chapters every week from now on is a promise! ALSO, feel free to review my stories. Creative c**_ ** _riticism is greatly appreciated!_**

 ** _*P.S Tell me which you would prefer: Longer or shorter chapters?*_**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: The Quiet Alliance**

Before I know it, the first day of training has come to a closure and I'm escorted to my room, like the prisoner I am. Upon entering, I hear the door slam behind me and a set of keys jangling to lock the door. I hear the Jay give out a mean spirited chuckle from behind the door.

"Wouldn't want you escaping again, eh?"

 _In order for me to win this, I need to buddy-boy._

My mind goes berserk as to think of a way to get out of this locked room. I'm in deep concentration, with my knees near my face in the fetal position when the noise of footsteps approaching my door breaks my focus.

"Schenious?"

An unfamiliar voice, and person, is behind that door.

"Yes," I whisper from my bed, intrigued. "That's me."

I hear a bit of fumbling and then a single black key slides under my door.

"Use it in five minutes, and Hevius will meet you by the archery station. Good luck."

 _All my questions will be answered._

My brain keeps repeating that until the five minutes have passed and I'm able to open the door successfully. I walk slowly and carefully down the hall, not to warrant any unnecessary attention. I make it to the archery range, and in front stands Hevius, hands crossed behind his back.

He's wearing a military style camouflage jacket and his arms seem to be nearly ripping through the fabric. His pants are loose and long and his boots are rusted and over used, like he went to the games with those exact boots.

I quietly make way towards him and taped one of his bulbous arms. He turns around, almost frightened, but gives a sigh of relief when he realize its only me.

"Were you followed?" His voice is a harsh whisper

I shake my head and he puts his hand on my shoulder and lowers himself so we're eye to eye.

"All your questions will be answered with this," he says, and he slips a hand within his military styles jacket. When his hand appears again, he's holding a video tape. He grabs my hand and puts the tape into my palm, the cold metal seeming to be untouched for a long time. He curls my fingers around it, and pats my enclosed hand.

"No matter what you do or what happens, he says. "Nobody and I mean nobody should know about this." His voice is a harsh whisper, and his breath seems to cloud up my mind with more questions.

 _What is this? How will it possibly help me?_

"I know you have a lot of questions," he continues. "But trust me, after you watch this all of them will be surely answered. Now if anyone asks, you stayed out after lights out practicing your traps. Got it?"

I nod my head in gratification, trusting in his words.

He escorts me back to my room and locks the door after I'm in. Although anxious to see what awaits me on this tape, I know that patience is key to not only this, but winning the games.

The night seems to fly by and I'm awakened by Hevius standing right over me, arms crossed.

"Today's a new day. Rise and shine!"

He grabs me by my collar and lifts me up with ease.

"You've got five minutes!"

He then slowly shifts to my left ear and whispers, "If anyone asks that tape came from your mother and you want to watch it private."

I nod my head, still half asleep but understanding what he has told me.

I change and proceed to the archery range. Instead of everyone being lined up and standing at attention I'm surprised to see everyone seated on the floor, scattered about in small circles conversing. As I walk through the crowds, all talk ceases and all eyes are on me.

"I heard you got a tape from mama!"

A boy's voice breaks the silence, and the rest of the tributes begin to hysterically laugh.

"At least he has a mother that loves him, you bastard child!"

I turn and see Agnus standing, shoulders broad and hands crossed in front of her. Her muscular arms seem to gleam as the cheap overhead lights hit her arm sweat. She wears a scowl on her face and approaches me slowly.

"I heard Hevius gave you a tape from your mother?"

I remember what he told me and nod.

"And I wish to view it alone, if that is ok," I add.

"Of course."

She escorts me to a small room filled with what looks like old video equipment strewn about the place. She waits until I'm in the room and closes the door. I hear the clicking of a lock and know that now is the time that will change everything. With this tape and its knowledge, ill know how to survive this horrible game. I know the secret Hevius has kept from all the other tributes. Most importantly, I'll know how to win.

In the center of the room lies an old television set with a tape player. I grab a chair from nearby that is broken and battered and slide the tape in.

 _All my questions will be answered._

 *** _Sorry to leave this chapter on sort of a cliff hanger, but all will be revealed in the next chapter! Creative criticism is greatly appreciated and don't forget to follow for updates on weekly chapter publishes!*_**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: False Hope

The tape begins and static fills the small TV screen. After a few seconds of it, it clears to a young looking dark skin boy. He's holding his right arm, which seems to be dangling and useless. Blood is splattered across his shirt, face and dripping down his arm in a waterfall of crimson color. His face has a frightful look and he is darting his head back and forth, eyes full of panic and fear. The camera then pans out to the surrounding area around the boy. It's a lush jungle filled with trees, vines and greenery as far as the eye can see. Bird's high-pitched chirps can be heard throughout the environment, like they're calling for someone.

Or something.

"The camera then slowly pans to the left, where a girl is hacking and slashing at another man with a large curved machete. The girl has a crazed look in her eye, and her hair is tangled and wild, like a lion's mane. She is swinging wildly and is using all her force in each blow to deliver death to the man. He seems to be trying exceptionally hard to defend himself from the violent attacker, but from the way he grimaces as he dodges each blow, you can tell he is quite injured. They woman relentlessly tries to get a hit on the man, but the harder she tries, the more it seems she is missing her target, as he bobs and weaves just in time of each blow.

In a final fit of desperation, she grabs the machete with both hands and lobs it at the man's head with the last bit of energy that her body can possibly exert. It misses by merely an inch as the boy dives out of the way just in time. Instead of planting in the tree behind the boy, the blade hits handle-first into it. This makes the machete ricochet off the tree and head straight back towards the woman. Wearisome from the throw and unable to move, the machete slices right down the left side of her face, right over her eye. The cut is long and deep and instantly begins to bleed. She covers it with both hands as blood begins pouring in between her fingers. She begins to scream uncontrollably and sinks to her knees. From the looks of it, she doesn't seem to have the energy to get up again.

The boy is still lying on the floor where he landed from the dive. He sighs heavily and spreads his arms and legs across the grassy field in exhaustion. The camera pans back out, and then turn's to the right and zooms in on the young dark skin boy again. He is holding something in his hand and is in a crouched position, slowly making his way across the lush jungle floor. I try and move closer to the screen and squint to see what the boy is holding, but to no avail. Almost like a jaguar setting his sights on the kill, his crouched stance is blind to the others.

 _Is he going to finish them off while there weak?_

The video suddenly cuts and the screen goes back to static. It resumes but the girl and the boy she was fighting were gone. The only thing that remained on focus was the jaguar-like boy. He was sitting on his knees on the floor, blood still pouring from his arm wound. He looks up and around once again, crazed just like the girl. His eyes seem to bulge out in fear of something. He plants his eyes on the camera and stares at it. It feels like he's staring right at me. Right through the lens into the very depths of my soul. His mouth begins to move like he's saying something but the video is non- audible. His lips start moving faster, but still nothing could be heard. Mid-sentence, the video cuts off and static once again fills the screen. The videotape pops out of the VCR, signaling its end.

 _That's it?_

 _That can't be._

 _Something is missing._

The door swings open and two Birds walk in.

I swing around and realize that they have their assault rifles aimed right at me.

"Get out," one of them says in a deep raspy voice.

 _Wait, didn't Agnus lock the door? I didn't hear the door unlock behind me._

"Now!"

I get up and head towards the door, but before that I'm hit with the butt of one of the guard's gun in the back of the head. Before I black out I can hear the voice of the guard who hit me.

"He knows too much now," says the raspy voiced one.

"What do you say we do," says the other. It has to be a female because the voice is light and feminine.

"Hmm. Destroy the tape and everything with it."

"Are you sure."

"Did I stutter."

"N-no sir."

I hear the gun go off and the sound of crashing glass before all goes black.

* _ **Another short chapter but had to leave it on a sort of cliff-hanger! Hope you all like the series so far. The Games are coming soon and i hope everyone is ready for the twist of their lives! Keep up the views and feel free to favorite and all criticism is deeply appreciated!***_


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Questions

I wake up in an unfamiliar room with my splitting headache and a huge bump on the back of my head. It was pitch black and dangerously silent. I started to hyperventilate as panic began to set in. I try to move, however my arms and legs seem to be strapped securely down. I began to toss myself and tug at the restraints, but to no avail. I couldn't move or see and the feeling that death was close began to loom upon me.

A door swings open in front of me, flooding the room with bright light and making me squint my eyes in displeasure. I begin to blink the haze from my eyes and three people entering the room become clear.

One of those people looks just like Hevius. And he's covered in what looks like blood.

 _What's going on?_

A light switch is flicked on and the room's colors begin to appear clearly now. Hevius is bloody and battered and is being carried by his arms by two Birds. The men drop Hevius in front of me and the blood begins to collect on the tile floor, making a crimson carpet.

Although frightened and with a mouth full of dryness, the words escape me: "What are you doing? Why are you doing this?"

"Did you know that leaking any type of government issues is punishable… by death?"

A raspy female voice fills up the hallway outside and I fear I already know who it is.

Agnus enters the room and my heart nearly sinks to my stomach. My guess was correct.

"Hevius, you have made a mistake trying to restart a rebellion. Your hopes and wishes to overcome President Heavensbee and Miss Everdeen are going to die here tonight. Along with you. Miss Everdeen would have loved to do this herself; however has bigger fish to fry at the moment."

"What are you going to do with him," I ask, another dry mouthed question escapes my lips.

"I suggested killing you, but the Mockingjay believed it would only cause bad publicity and then another poor soul would have to be reaped in your place. Not good. So he will have to do."

Hevius regains consciousness and begins to breathe heavily. He looks up from the floor and the side of his face is covered in cuts and large gashes. Blood drips down his face, in a waterfall of red.

"Whatever you do," he choked out. "Don't let them win."

He began to cough hoarsely and blood flew from his mouth.

"Know who the real enemy is Schneious. I made it. So can you. And know that there _is_ a way to end this carnage once and for-"

He's cut off by a swift kick to the stomach by one of the Birds.

"Please stop!"

I begin to plead and struggle against my restraints, but they succeed in keeping me controlled. Agnus glares at me, a look of repulsion on her face.

"Or else what," she asks.

She reaches for a nightstick strapped to her hip and pulls it out of its sheath. She places against the side of my temple and my heart begins to beat even faster. My head lulls back down in defeat and dryness overcomes my throat once again.

"That's what I thought. Now," she gives the nightstick to one of the Birds and he takes off his helmet. I can't help but gasp when I realize who is under that mask.

It's Gale.

"Make sure you finish the job."

The proceeds out the door, cackling at the top of her lungs. The door slams shut, as does the hope to get Hevius out of this alive.

 _I have to try, even if it kills me._

The words he said repeat in my head over and over

 _Whatever you do. Don't let them win._

 *** _Hello once again and Happy New Year! 2015 is gone and 2016 is among us! Sorry about the long break in chapters, but I was away for the holidays. Yes this chapter is short, but the next one will be chocked full of action and suspense. Spoiler: If your squeamish, id skip the next chapter xD. Feel free to leave creative_** ** _criticism and look out for next weeks chapter coming soon!*_**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Forgive, but never Forget

 _Why are they doing this?_

WHACK!

 _Please stop._

WHACK!

 _Please I beg you!_

WHACK!

I try and yell but I can't. My mouth is too dry. Tears are welling up in my eyes, and I feel hopeless. The inability to save someone who is less than 3 feet in front of me bites at my conscious like a rabid dog.

After what seemed like an hour or so of hit after hit with the baton, Gale slouches over in exhaustion and places his hand on his knees. Sweat glistens over his brows and upper lip and his breathing is the only thing that can be heard now. A pool of blood lies in front of him as the mangled husk of what is, or was, Hevius lies on his back, his face barely recognizable at this point. He lets out a loud gasp which signals that Gale has not yet accomplished Agnus' goal.

"Crap," Gale sighs, seeming distraught at having to prolong the torture of not only Hevius, but me as well.

"Schenious," Hevius manages to cough out. Although both of his eyes are swollen shut, he seems to look into my soul. I can't speak and just begin sobbing.

"It's ok Schenious. I knew this was coming."

He coughs hoarsely and blood spills across the floor.

"I knew that I would be caught one day. I just wish I didn't drag you into this mess. Even though I won't get out of this, I'll make sure you do."

Then he smiles. A smile that seems to say that even though I'm close to death, and even though I may die right here, right now, that I'm ok. And it just makes the soul he's looking at die just a bit more.

"I remember seeing you on the big screen with the Mockingjay, Gale."

I'm suddenly surprised of who he is directing his speech now to.

"What of it," Gale responds grimly.

"What happened to you and her? Missed your chance when Peeta came and swept her off her feet?"

"You'd better shut your mouth old man."

Gale's face began to turn a bright red, and I couldn't tell if it was from rage or embarrassment.

"All it took was a simple memory and a life or death situation for your girl to become someone elses," Hevius said slyly.

 _What are you doing you crazy bastard!_

"I said shut it!"

Gale responds with a swift kick to the temple of Hevius, sending blood not only flying on the tile floor, but right across my face. The smell of the iron in the blood begins to fill my nose.

"It took him merely a few days to win her heart in the Games. You've tried for years and still lost to the baker boy," Hevius says in between chuckles and coughs.

Gale grabs Hevius by the collar and begins to punch him square in the nose multiple times. Blood flies in every direction as the sickening crack of a broken nose being beat in fills the room. After every impact I can't help but wince and hope that Hevius is dead. I don't want him going through anymore torture then I've already seen.

After maybe 30 or so hits, Gale releases Hevius' colar and he plops on the ground in his own blood, displacing it around the room. Gale's heavy breathing once again fill up the silent room, but behind it are Hevius' dying chuckles.

"You weren't man enough for her anyway. You can't even kill me."

Gale screams in irate fury and grabs the other Bird's gun from the holster on his waist. He cocks the gun and places it squarely on the temple of Hevius. The Bird places his hands in the air and begins to plead with Gale.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there Gale. Agnus said nothing about a bullet to the brain during any of this. He's just making you angry by saying all these false things."

But from the look on the guards face and from what I remember being told about the old Games, all of what Hevius is saying is spot on.

Gale begins to hyperventilate in anger and says, "I loved her! I loved her so much! I would've given anything in the world to be with her. And I lost her… to a god damn baker boy!"

Gale pulls the trigger and I can't help by shut my eyes in fear.

 _ ***Oooooo Cliff Hanger! Don't worry, all will be revealed in the next chapter! Look out for it next week and also continue to review and show your love for the Mockingjay Games!***_


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Turning Tables

Everything is silent.

Dead silent.

Only the irate breathing of Gale could be heard throughout the room.

I open my eyes slowly, but see that Hevius is still on his knees, eyes swollen shut and face battered and bruised. He drops on the floor and sighs loudly. I can't tell if it's from relief or fatigue.

"What happened," I ask.

I watch as Gale releases the magazine from the gun and stares at it in confusion.

It was empty.

He looks back to the guard and he slowly shakes his head, eyes wide in horror.

"Why is it empty," Gale asks the guard, anger beginning to rise in his voice.

"Sir, I-I d-don't know," the guard says, eyes still wide.

"What the hell do you mean you don't know!"

He was screaming now.

"Sir I swear I don't know! I was given that gun by someone and didn't bother asking if it was loaded."

"Who gave you the gun?!"

"I did", says a familiar voice that makes everyone, including me, shift my gaze to the door. At the door stood Agnus, large assault rifle strapped around her back.

Gale makes his way towards her and stops right in front of her. Agnus doesn't flinch as Gale gets right into her face and screams, "What the hell is wrong with you!"

Wiping the spit from her face, she calmly replies, saying "I knew you couldn't hold yourself Gale. I knew if given the chance, and if your anger peeked, you would disobey my orders and do as you please."

Agnus begins to pace, and everyone's eyes follow her as she makes her trips back and forth.

"You disobeyed a direct order by your superior," Agnus says again. "That's punishable by death."

Gale's eyes are now the ones that are wide in horror.

"So you're just going to kill us now," Gale asks.

Agnus stops and slowly brings the gun to a firing position, looking through the foresight and aiming it directly at Gale's forehead. Sweat begins to develop along his brows once again, but this time it's from pure terror.

"I could shoot you, and it would be totally justified," says Agnus.

I watch as her finger begins to slowly pull at the trigger and Gale closes his eyes, anticipating his death. Instead of pulling the trigger completely, her finger eases off and she throws the gun at my feet. I'm struck by surprised and raise my brow in curiosity.

"I have a much better idea for you Gale", Agnus says evilly. "You will pay for your insubordination in a way that I am positive will kill you."

My brow is still raised in curiosity.

"Guards, take him away and lock him in a cell."

The guards look at Agnus peculiarly, but after a few seconds, they comply.

Gale lets his feet drag in defeat as he's carried away.

Agnus turns to Hevius and says, "Now, now, now, what to do with you."

She begins to pace around the barely conscious man, arms behind her back and face twisted in a puzzled fashion.

"Why don't you just let him go," I manage to get out. "He's already been through enough."

Her gaze shifts away from him and locks on to me, like a hawk eyeing its next meal. It sends shivers down my spine and I can't help but shudder a little.

"Well I would, but just as I've told Gale, that won't be possible," says Agnus smugly.

Agnus grabs the gun from the floor in front of me and begins to examine it oddly.

"Why can't you just let him," I begin to plead. "Please, I beg you!"

She lets out a shriek of anger and places the gun barrel to my temple. She smiles a sadistic laugh and hits me with the end of her gun. I feel my vision go slightly obscure and the world around me goes quiet. I shake my head to try and clear it, which gives me more of a massive headache. Through my hazy eyesight I can see Agnus squat down to Hevius and tell him something in his ear. My eardrums are still ringing so the conversation they have is mute to me.

Hevius suddenly spits a bloody mucous ball at Agnus' face and it lands flat on her nose and lips. She wipes the mess off her face and hits him square in the forehead with the butt of the gun. Hevius collapses on the floor and, although my vision is still fuzzy, I can see that he is looking at me, smiling. Teeth missing and blood all around his face, he still gives me a toothy grin and a thumb up. Dread fills my body and I can't help but feel like this is whole thing is my entire fault. Agnus says one more thing and places the barrel of the gun at his temple.

 _She can't kill him._

 _He's my only hope of survival in this hell._

Her finger pulls the trigger and an explosion of pain shoots through my head, as if she had shot me. Blood slaps onto the wall and floor and all over my face. I start to yell over and over again, but with the damage to my eardrum, everything is still silent. I continue to yell and yell until my throat starts to ache, and finally I stop and begin to sob uncontrollably. Through my teary eyes, I see Agnus walk out the door, head held high in satisfaction.

 _I'll kill you._

 _I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do._

 ** _*Looks like someone is heated now! This was a more serious chapter, along with the last one, and i hope you guys enjoyed it! Look out for the next chapter coming out sometime next week. I'm open to creative criticism and feel free to review as you please! Also, im working on a new HG story that will dig deeper into something more personal. Those who enjoy dark themed stories may find this FanFic appealing so look forward to it coming out very soon!*_**


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